


A Conversation

by riwriting



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: F/M, Follows Canon, mostly - Freeform, not a fix it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-24 04:22:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19716121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riwriting/pseuds/riwriting
Summary: Kay would say Cassian has a type.  Cassian would disagree, and this topic of conversation is really unnecessary as they need to concentrate on the mission.  Three interconnected moments from Rogue One.  It is canon-compliant.





	1. Chapter 1

While Cassian did not make a habit of hauling criminals around the galaxy, he suspected that they were a lot like children: when they were quiet, you should probably be worried. Since entering hyperspace, he’d heard not one peep from their reluctant passenger. He wondered if he should have listened to K-2 when his friend issued the warning about letting a blaster anywhere near Jyn Erso. He had to admit it wouldn’t take much for her to kill him and take the ship. He also had to admit that she had motive to do so – it was quite clear Jyn Erso wanted nothing to do with Saw Gerrera, and the Alliance was essentially forcing her to speak with the man.  
  
It would be prudent to check on her, Cassian decided as he rose from his seat and issued a “stay here” to K-2. If nothing else, it was better to be safe than sorry. If Jyn was still brooding in her seat, then there was no harm. If not…. Well, if not, he’d handle it. His hand drifted to his blaster as he ducked into the main hold.  
  
He stopped.  
  
The criminal mastermind he’d worried about was fast asleep, her head propped against the wall and her mouth hanging slightly open. The only menacing thing about her was that she clutched the blaster she’d _found_ in both hands as if her life depended on it. Even that didn’t really look menacing. She looked…  
  
Young.  
  
Scared.  
  
Vulnerable.  
  
Cassian had to admit that some of those were the Alliance’s fault. Part of him – the part that occasionally tried to get in the way of his duties – felt somewhat bad about what they were forcing the girl to do. He told himself not to dwell on it, to tuck that part away with all the other guilty thoughts that occasionally wormed their way to the surface of his mind before being shoved back into their proper places. After all, in the end, it didn’t matter if Jyn Erso was afraid of him or K-2 or what they were going to do. What mattered was whether the Alliance could win the war. Besides, it wasn’t as if kidnapping a criminal was the worst thing he’d done for the Cause.  
  
“Oh dear.” K-2’s voice interrupted his thoughts.  
  
Cassian turned towards the sound and scowled. “Back in the cockpit,” he hissed. “We don’t want to wake her.” If Jyn Erso was asleep, she could not be getting into trouble. More importantly, she could not be testing K-2’s theory about using her newly acquired firearm on Cassian. The longer she stayed asleep, Cassian decided, the better it was for everyone.  
  
“I do not like this, Cassian,” K-2 commented as he obeyed.  
  
“You can talk all you want in the cockpit,” Cassian reassured him. He rubbed his hands over his face before dropping into the pilot’s chair. Part of him thought it might be a good idea to grab some sleep of his own. He knew K-2 would watch his back if he did….  
  
“No. Not that.” K-2 said. “I do not think we should have brought Jyn Erso with us.”  
  
“I don’t like it either,” he reminded the droid. “But we need to talk to Gerrera if we want to have any hope of getting our hands on that message, and Gerrera has no reason to deal with either you or me without the girl.”  
  
“Because she is essentially his daughter,” K-2 finished.  
  
“Basically,” Cassian agreed.  
  
K-2 made a noise that was part annoyance, part suffering acceptance. Not for the first time, Cassian wondered if droids should be able to do that. He didn’t dwell on it. “Cassian,” K-2 said slowly, “You do see the problem here.”  
  
“That we have an unpredictable criminal who we’re taking to an even more unpredictable soldier?” He prompted. “Yes. I’m well aware.”  
  
“No. Not that.” K-2 chastised. “The real problem.” When Cassian didn’t respond, K-2 added, “You are going to fall in love with her.”  
  
Cassian resisted the urge to groan. In retrospect, he should have seen it coming. The moment K-2 mentioned anything about a woman’s father, the warning bells should have started ringing. Instead, he’d walked right into it. “Not this again,” he muttered.  
  
“She is your type.” K-2 observed.  
  
“I don’t have a type,” Cassian corrected. He slouched lower in his seat. Maybe he could will himself asleep to avoid this conversation.  
  
“Of course you do. I have years worth of data on you, Cassian, and I noticed a very distinct pattern.” K-2 reported, as if this was ground breaking information. “When you are assigned to get information from important men, and they have daughters with dark hair, you fall in love with the daughters.”  
  
“I do not,” Cassian managed to get out between his teeth, “Fall in love with the brunette daughters of men I spy on. We have been over this, Kay.”  
  
“Lyzia Ta'dana,” K-2 started, holding up a mechanical finger.  
  
“Just a recruit.” Cassian interrupted. “There was nothing romantic there.”  
  
“Nova Roark,” K-2 continued, adding a second finger.  
  
“Is dead,” Cassian finished.  
  
“What does that have to do with anything?” K-2 asked. “She is still part of the pattern.”  
  
“I did not sleep with Nova.” Cassian said firmly. Nova had never seen him as anything other than an Alliance recruiter. It was, Cassian admitted, a lucky thing. He didn’t need those types of complications in his life.  
  
“That is not what we are looking at,” K-2 insisted. “We are examining the women you fall in love with, not the ones you eventually have relationships with. Now, where was I? Oh, yes. And there was Calli Prestal, and Princess Leia Organa…”  
  
“For the love of…Kay, there was never anything with the princess.” Cassian felt his blood pressure tick upwards.  
  
“And now,” K-2 finished, “We are taking a brunette woman to see the man who is, for all intents and purposes, her father. And you need to get information from him.” A metal finger pointed in Cassian’s face. “You cannot fall in love with her, Cassian. She is trouble and it will compromise the mission.”  
  
“Yes, well,” Cassian pushed the finger to the side. “You don’t have to worry about that. I don’t fall in love with criminals.”  
  
His words did little to assuage K-2. The droid’s ocular receptors blinked, and then K-2 merely repeated, “You cannot fall in love with her,” before returning to his station. The conversation was clearly over. Not that he minded. Talking about his love life – which was and had been non-existent for years – with K-2 was not his idea of a good way to spend their time in hyperspace.  
  
It was, however, still better than being shot by Jyn Erso.  
  
Cassian shoved his headset back onto his head and told himself he’d be glad when this mission was over.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part Two of Three: Eadu  
**  
Jyn was catatonic. Cassian wasn’t sure what to do about that. Whereas he’d been able to get Bodhi Rook to at least speak with him in Saw’s dungeons, Jyn didn’t seem ready to communicate with anyone. She sat in the hold, staring straight ahead like a statue. It was as if she wasn’t really there. She certainly did not seem to be aware of anything going on around her – of the Guardians quietly talking or of the defector pilot who looked equally as lost or even of Cassian, sitting at the edge of the cockpit watching all of them.  
  
He wasn’t sure he wanted her to be aware.  
  
There were things that Cassian had come to accept. War was messy. Morality was not a constant. Stopping bad people meant good people sometimes became collateral damage. There were things no one wanted to do, but someone had to do them.  
  
He was – for better of for worse – someone.  
  
At least, he told himself, the girl had her life. Whatever would happen next – and Cassian knew what was going to happen next, what had to happen next – she would still be breathing. She’d done what was asked of her, and the Council would even arrange for her freedom. Being alive and free was more than most people had these days. All things considered, she would be better off than she was earlier this week.  
  
 _It’s not as if she’s really losing anything_ , a small voice tried to rationalize in his mind. _She said herself that she prefers to believe her father is dead._ He hated himself for the thought, then immediately hated himself for caring. Jyn was making this entire mission much more complicated than it needed to be. When they returned, he would speak with General Draven and request that future neutralization assignments did not include the target’s blood relatives. Neutralizations themselves he could handle. He’d handled them for years quite successfully. He’d even spent time around family members of his targets before with no problems. And yet, with Jyn….  
  
 _You could have avoided this_ , the rationalizing voice pointed out, _If you’d just left her on Jedha. If you had, she would be dead right now. No one would have blamed you for not saving her. She had been separated from you and the planet was literally blowing apart. She would be just another casualty of war…  
_  
Across the hold, Jyn blinked slowly. Cassian held his breath and waited for her to make any sort of response indicating she was aware once more. Instead, she continued to stare straight ahead, lost in whatever mental hell she’d fallen into.  
  
“Cassian,” K-2’s voice interrupted his study. “We need to talk.”  
  
He suspected he knew what this was about. Despite droids supposedly not being capable of human feeling, K-2 seemed to be the exception to that rule. Maybe people didn’t know enough about droids or maybe K-2 was just special. Cassian wasn’t sure. What he did know was that he’d been short with K-2 most of this mission. While that wasn’t unusual in and of itself, he was _shorter than usual_ with the droid on Jedha. K-2 might think Cassian was upset with him, instead of with the entire mess that the mission had become. He pushed himself to his feet and followed K-2 into the cockpit area. “You did well, Kay,” he started.  
  
“Of course I did well,” K-2 replied as if Cassian was stating the obvious. “I would have done better if I had come along…” he paused, then added begrudgingly, “But I suppose staying with the ship meant I had a ship to fly to you when Jedha exploded.”  
  
“It worked out,” Cassian agreed.  
  
“That isn’t what we need to talk about.” K-2 declared. “I heard you and General Draven talking, and we have a big problem.”  
  
Cassian resisted the urge to run his hands over his face. “I know.”  
  
“I have done the calculations, and there is an sixty four percent chance Jyn Erso kills you when she learns about your assignment from the General.” K-2 stated, matter-of-factly.  
  
“Yes,” Cassian suspected K-2’s calculations were a bit low. “About that. I might need you to restrain her.”  
  
“That was my calculation with her being restrained,” K-2 corrected him. “If I do not restrain her, the likelihood is over eighty percent.”  
  
“I’m glad you’ve given me some chance in a fight against a five foot tall woman,” Cassian muttered.  
  
“My calculations suggest,” K-2’s voice became regretful, “That you will not fight back as strongly as you could. I needed to take account of that.” He brightened. “I do believe, in a fair fight, you would have a seventy two percent chance of being victorious. I do not believe Jyn Erso would fight fair, however, and-”  
  
“I get it.” Cassian interrupted. The last thing he wanted to do was consider the various probabilities of Jyn killing him under different scenarios. “Let’s not worry quite yet.” Cassian glanced over his shoulder. “I’m good at what I do. I can come up with something to tell her, and she might not learn…. She’s lost in shock.” She looked so…small. Alone. Broken. He still had his parka from Jedha. Maybe he could wrap it around her to keep her warm at least….  
  
“Oh, no.” K-2’s voice brought him back to the conversation at hand.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Cassian, this is terrible,” K-2 sounded as if the galaxy had ended. “It seriously complicates the mission.”  
  
“I know I should have left her,” he snapped. “But you weren’t there. You didn’t see her like…”   
  
“I knew this would happen,” K-2 continued to mutter darkly. “But you wouldn’t listen to me.”  
  
“I told you I agreed that bringing her was a bad idea….” he started.  
  
“Not that.” K-2’s head swiveled to look him straight in the eye. “You fell in love with her - and after I specifically told you not to.”  
  
Oh, sweet Force. Of all times for K-2 to start down that never ending hole again, it had to be shortly before Cassian had to eliminate an Imperial scientist who’s daughter would very much want to engage in a revenge killing. “You have got to be kidding me.”  
  
“You’ve cast seventy two percent more longing looks at her than at any of the other passengers you picked up on Jedha,” K-2 pointed out.  
  
“I am not casting _longing looks_ at anyone,” Cassian insisted.  
  
“That wasn’t a denial of your feelings,” K-2 reminded him.  
  
“Humans don’t fall in love with people they’ve only known for a couple days, Kay.” Cassian tried to appeal to logic. “It…it doesn’t work like that. I don’t even know her.”  
  
“You know the important parts,” K-2 tried again.  
  
Did he? He might not know what Jyn’s favorite thing to eat was, but he knew she had no problem risking her life to protect others. She’d even jumped in front of K-2…. What was he doing? He was actually listening to K-2 on this? The whole thing was getting ridiculous. He wasn’t even sure why he had humored the conversation this far. “Kay, let it go. I meant what I said. I do not love her. I am not going to fall in love with her. When we get back to Yavin, neither of us will ever see her again.” He should have left it at that. He should have kept his mouth closed and trusted K-2 to treat it as the end of the conversation that it clearly was.  
  
Except he was tired. It had been a horrific day. When everything became silent, his mind either began replaying the moments when he watched as the horizon literally disappeared on Jedha or began working over the parts of his mission that were still to come. Despite knowing better – and he really did know better – Cassian heard himself fill the silence with the stupidest question ever. “What things?”  
  
“Well, for starters,” K-2 brightened once more, as if happy to help. “Her father is very important to intelligence. He might be the most important father yet. And,” he paused, “She also looks like your type.”  
  
Why did he open his mouth. And yet, Cassian found himself continuing to make the same mistake. “For the last time, Kay. I do not have a type.”  
  
“Of course you do, Cassian.” K-2’s voice hovered very close to scolding. “You always fall in love with the same type of women. And it never ends well for you, does it? By your own admission, Nova died before returning your affections, you ended your relationship with Calli, the princess-”  
  
“I have never had romantic feelings for the princess.“ Cassian interrupted. "We’ve been over this. She’s a child.”  
  
“She is now at an appropriate age to begin a romantic relationship,” K-2 observed, as if this meant Cassian should now make up for lost time.  
  
“This is-” Cassian cut himself off. Arguing with K-2 about it would only dig the hole deeper, which was pathetic since there wasn’t any hole to dig to begin with. “I need to report in.”  
  
“I understand,” K-2 said, in a voice that made it very clear he did understand. In retrospect, Cassian decided, he should have programmed the droid to be a lot less observant.  
  
At the same time, Cassian found he didn’t really care if K-2 thought he was in love with a dead girl, still carrying a torch for his former lover, and/or had some sort of infatuation with a teenage princess and a former resident of an Imperial work camp. He had bigger problems to deal with – things like planet killers, and their creators, and the fact that if he made even the slightest mistake, neither him nor K-2 would live long enough to see Yavin again. The only thing that mattered at the moment was getting his report to the Rebellion so they knew what they were dealing with – so that decisions could be made.  
  
It was not the most enjoyable conversation Cassian had been a party to.  
  
It made his previous conversation with his droid look like a fun time sing a long.  
  
There had been a part of him that had hoped, foolishly, that a report confirming the existence of a planet killer would be enough, that he wouldn’t have to complete the rest of the mission. He knew, deep down, that this sort of hope was useless. He’d learned long ago that, for the galaxy to get the hope it needed to continue fighting, he needed to stop thinking in terms of hope and start thinking in terms of realism. He pulled the headset off his ears, the instruction to continue with his orders playing on repeat in his mind. “Set a course for Eadu.”  
  
“Is that where my father is?” A female voice asked suddenly. Jyn was….aware.  
  
In one awful moment, he knew things were about to get very, very bad. He had to hope that K-2’s calculations were incorrect. Either that, or that he would somehow end up in the eighteen percent scenario where Jyn Erso did not, in fact, kill him for assassinating her father.   
  
Fortunately, in the end – after Eadu, after Galen Erso, after Alliance bombs raining from the sky - either the Force or dumb luck was with him. K-2’s calculations on the likelihood Jyn Erso would kill him were wrong. She confronted him, yelled at him, and laid bare his sins in front of the others for their judgment, but she did not try to kill him.   
  
Unfortunately, K-2 might not have been wrong about everything. In the silence that occupied the flight back to Yavin, it was everything Cassian could do not to think of the ramifications of why he held his fire upon realizing Galen Erso had his daughter’s eyes.  
  
~*~ 


	3. Chapter 3

**Part Three of Three: Yavin  
**  
Josta Cracken once told him that animals instinctively knew when their deaths were approaching. At the time, Cassian wrote it off as another one of Josta’s old farm superstitions. Now, as he watched his impromptu meeting start to break up, he reconsidered that position.  
  
It was more than pragmatism or looking at the odds. Of course, both of those evaluation tools agreed he was going to die. There was something more, though. Something deep in his body that somehow…knew. Knew that he had only hours left to live. Knew that everything was ending. Knew it was time.  
  
There were many things, he realized, that a man did not consider until his time was almost up. It was as if, for years, there had been no time for reflection, and now that he was reflecting, there was no time to rectify what he saw.   
  
Twenty years spent fighting, shaving pieces from his soul bit by bit in hopes that it would make a difference, until nothing was left but a shell. Twenty six years breathing, but none spent living. It had been an existence, nothing more. And now there was maybe a day left. Hours. Minutes. Time enough for one last act.  
  
There was a saying that doing something right, for the wrong reason, was no better than doing something wrong. He’d always thought the sentiment foolish. Now….well, now Cassian could not definitively say why he was planning what he was about to do. Yes, it sounded good to tell people, _“We have this one last chance, and if we succeed, we can give those coming after us what they need to try to finish the fight.”_ He couldn’t deny, however, that he was doing it more to seek absolution than for any other reason. Maybe that was wrong. Maybe it wasn’t. The ends would justify whatever internal reason he had, so maybe it didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. Or maybe…  
  
“Cassian?” K-2 sounded concerned.  
  
He sighed heavily, let his fingers slide across the rough edge of the table one last time, then stood. “We need to get our gear. They probably have another hour before they let out, but we’ll need to move fast once they do.”  
  
“There is a seventeen percent chance they will approve the mission.” K-2 attempted to be helpful.  
  
“We’ll proceed based on the eighty three percent chance they don’t.” He took a step past K-2, then stopped. “As high as seventeen? Really?”  
  
“Councilor Mothma will want to fight.” K-2 observed. “And Senator Organa.”  
  
Cassian could see Mothma believing Jyn. He’d noticed she saw Jyn in a positive light, despite what she knew about her. K-2 was probably right about Bail Organa as well. The man always struck Cassian as someone who could look at something and understand its truth or falsity. But… “The others will never believe her.” He turned back to face K-2. “The convict daughter of an Imperial scientist? The same scientist we killed? What reason do they have to believe her?”  
  
“You convinced them to believe her.” K-2 gestured at the retreating agents. “And you believe her.” He paused. “And not because of any romantic feelings for her.”  
  
“Now, Kay? Really?” Cassian wasn’t sure if it was the most absurd thing he’d ever heard or the most frustrating.  
  
“I am conceding,” K-2’s voice took on a diplomatic tone, “That you do not love her.”  
  
There was something about that concession, that olive branch, that made Cassian realize K-2 felt it to. The last little bit of time was trickling through their fingers, and there was no way to grasp it and hold on for just a few moments more. You wanted things to be right, when the last moments fell away. You wanted to face the end with peace. And, while a stupid debate wasn’t exactly the sort of thing that prevented that peace, the symbolism behind the gesture was not lost. “Thank you.”  
  
“Even though she is your type,” K-2 added.  
  
Cassian nodded once. Well, if K-2 could give him this concession to stand in for everything they could not say, he could give something back. That’s what friends did – or so he thought – when putting things to rest. “Yes. I guess she is.” He motioned for K-2 to walk with him as he started towards the hanger. There was gear he needed to collect, things he should prepare. He didn’t have any testamentary instruments – there never seemed like much of a point considering he owned nothing – but there was the question of K-2. Without realizing he was doing it, he reached his hand out and patted the droid’s arm.  
  
“Is everything alright?” K-2 stopped.  
  
“Just thinking.” Cassian replied. “Of all of us, you have the best chance of surviving this.”  
  
“I will not abandon you on this mission,” K-2 became serious.  
  
“I know. But you can take several blaster shots and keep going. I can’t.” Cassian looked up at his friend. “If something happens, and I don’t come back with you, what do you want?”  
  
“I do not want to come back,” K-2 said. After a pause, he added, “You are my programmer.”  
  
Cassian felt the slightest smile pull at his mouth and he patted K-2’s arm again. “I know.”  
  
“Would you get a new droid?” K-2 asked, “If I did not come back?”  
  
He couldn’t really imagine that. Pragmatically, it would be hard for him to get his hands on a second security droid. That he’d gotten K-2 in the first place was nothing short of a small miracle. There weren’t any other droids that could do what K-2 did, either. And emotionally…. There were reasons spies did not have friends. There were reasons why _Cassian_ did not have friends, or form attachments. A large motivation in reprogramming Kay was to avoid those sorts of problems – he was supposed to be a machine, a tool, something Cassian could use and not care about. That had backfired spectacularly. “No,” he admitted. “I don’t think I could.”  
  
“Well, then,” K-2 became practical, “That is settled and we should finish preparing for the mission so we are ready to leave once you talk with Jyn.”  
  
Cassian nodded to himself, started walking once more, and then stopped. “Kay. Wait.” He watched as the robotic head turned towards him, and braced himself. “I’m going to say something. You aren’t going to like it.”  
  
“You are ordering me to stay behind,” K-2 surmised unhappily.  
  
“No. We need you. There are things you can do that none of us can.” Cassian paused. “The primary goal must be getting the plans to the Alliance. Whatever happens to me, whatever danger I’m in, you cannot place my safety as a higher priority than the plans.”  
  
“I understand.” K-2 sounded even more melancholy than he had a moment earlier.  
  
“The plans are the top priority.” Cassian emphasized.  
  
“The plans are the top priority,” K-2 repeated. Cassian knew that he was internally setting up processes to ensure that priority was met.  
  
“Good. I need you to do something else for me.” He waited until he was sure K-2 was paying attention. “As long as it does not interfere with the top priority, protect Jyn. Do what you can to make sure she gets back to the Alliance safely.”  
  
“Jyn.” K-2 did not sound pleased with that. “But protecting you is my second priority,” he corrected. “After the plans.”  
  
“No. I need it to be Jyn.” Cassian insisted. “She’s…it’s…” How did you even explain something like this? He didn’t have an answer to that. “The man who built the flaw into the Death Star, he’s given us a chance. And we have no way to thank him. The only thing we have left to give is to try to keep Jyn safe.”  
  
“You could lock her in the brig,” K-2 suggested. “I could carry her there myself, and we could leave without her.”  
  
“That’s not fair to her.” Cassian pointed out. “She’ll want to fight. She’s earned that. I just want you to look out for her. Keep her safe. Help her get home, after.”  
  
“And not you,” K-2 finished.  
  
“No.” Cassian agreed. “ Not me.”  
  
K-2 was silent, though Cassian could sense the processors were whirling. After several moments, K-2 asked, “Do I have to?”  
  
“I’m not going to order you to.” He conceded. There had been too many orders causing too much harm. He couldn’t do to K-2 what had been done to him. He might not be a good man, but he was better than that. “But I’m asking you, as a friend. If our friendship matters, you will do this for me.”   
  
In his defense, Cassian thought ruefully, he never specified how much better.  
  
Cassian could tell K-2 did not like his answer. He waited, nonetheless, for the droid’s decision. “Oh, very well.” K-2 paused as if resetting additional internal parameters. “Second priority. Help Jyn Erso.”  
  
“Thank you.” Cassian meant it. There was some peace in that, too. He didn’t expect any of them to get an After, but if someone did, he’d like it to be them.  
  
And then, he pushed the thoughts away and pretended, like every other unpleasant thing during his years, that they did not exist. There was too much left to do to dwell on the ramifications of what precious few hours he had left.  
  
It still didn’t stop him from smiling later when he overheard K-2 declaring, “Jyn, I’ll be there for you. Cassian said I have to.”  
  
In a kinder universe, Cassian thought as he walked to the shuttle, maybe things would have been different and he would have had a chance to know her, to fall in love with her. He took a last look at the Rebellion and corrected himself. In a kinder universe, things wouldn’t be couched in terms of _what if_ or _maybe_. There would be, he decided, some sort of After in that universe, with all the things After implied. There was even a decent chance that universe’s After included Jyn.   
  
She was his type, after all.  
  
~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In old canon, Josta Cracken is the wife of Airen Cracken (and mother of Pash and Dena). Airen Cracken appears in both old and new canon as the head of Alliance Intelligence, and, according to the Visual Guide, was in the Outer Rim during the events of Rogue One and ANH.
> 
> There might be some canon errors in this? I originally wrote it in Spring 2017 and I haven’t scoured it to compare it against anything that’s come out since.

**Author's Note:**

> The not-Leia women Kay mentions are from my random brain. None of them are canon.


End file.
